Scars
by CorellianBlue
Summary: Leia Organa. Han Solo. Lots of naked skin. Oh, and scars. First published back in 2000. Literally revised today - 7 August 2015. Cover image (artwork specifically commissioned for this fic) by the incredibly talented Leela Starsky. Dedicated to the wonderful Brian Daley who so lovingly wrote Han fic back before it was fashionable. RIP, Brian.


**Scars**

 **by CorellianBlue**

(first published 2000, revised 2015)

 _What an incredible sight,_ Leia mused, a smile slinking across her face and contentment bubbling throughout her body. With her arms folded across her breasts, Leia leaned against the rim of the hatchway between the refresher and the sleeping area of her cabin and took in the view.

Her eyes started at the large feet that nearly touched the end of the bed, moved up the long, muscled legs towards narrow hips and flat stomach. She followed the line of ribs up to the expanse of chest dappled with fine hair and the nipples she had come to learn were surprisingly sensitive. For a moment, the simple rise and fall of each breath he took entranced her. Then her gaze moved along the sharp angle of collarbone, the broad shoulders rolling over to the curve of biceps, before moving up his strong neck, over the knot of larynx, along the slope of jaw and across to the rest of his face. Relaxed by sleep, an innocence touched those distinctive features of lips, cheeks and brows. Leia inhaled the soft, musky scent of lovemaking that touched the air.

 _Be careful,_ she warned herself with a silent snicker, _or you'll start drooling._

She shouldn't question it, yet the sight of a naked Han Solo lying in her bed made her wonder what she had done to deserve him and the happiness he brought her. Simply thinking that Han was _all_ hers— that he had made a firm commitment to her after his rescue from Tatooine— still caused Leia's stomach to flutter with exhilaration like a besotted teenager experiencing her first crush on an older man. And times like these, knowing that she had spent the last hour making love with him, was enough to reduce the normally unflappable Rebel leader to a mess of emotions and hormones. Even for a princess, it was all wildly and incredibly awe-inspiring.

Sometimes, Leia thought she loved Han so desperately she couldn't imagine why it had taken her so long to realise it. She must have been blind as well as stupid. That, or too busy arguing with him.

Sometimes, Leia wanted everyone to know how she felt about Han, to run through the corridors of the command vessel yelling to the ship's company: _Leia Organa loves Han Solo!_

She didn't really need to tell anyone. It was general knowledge throughout the Rebel Alliance that Leia Organa and Han Solo were lovers, even if it wasn't generally approved.

Despite her irrational reveries about spruiking their love to the galaxy, the princess had not officially declared to the Alliance High Council that she was in a relationship with the former smuggler. Not only was it was none of their business, Leia didn't quite know how to raise the matter as a committee agenda item.

There had been supposition that more than simple friendship had driven Leia to take a leave of absence to rescue the smuggler from Tatooine. But their relationship hadn't become apparent until after the Battle of Endor— now a good 60 Standard days ago—when she and Han had been transferred to the Mon Calamari cruiser, _Azure Blue_. Leia had exerted some authority and commandeered a cabin with a bunk larger than what she normally would have insisted upon, and although not huge it proved more than adequate for two to share. Han had compounded the situation by refusing the offer of a private cabin, but had then been openly seen entering and leaving Leia's suite. Whispers and gossip were quickly subsumed by the couple's public displays of affection and being caught in compromising positions. If you didn't know Leia Organa was sleeping with Han Solo, you obviously weren't looking hard enough.

Leia's initial affront at the disdain that Alliance senior officers held towards Han quickly turned to delight at the level of notoriety she had attained. _The Alderaani ice princess has taken a Corellian smuggler for a lover – what scandal!_

It hadn't been smooth flying for the couple. It was a good two months into their relationship and although Han was firmly ensconced in her heart, Leia had hoped that by now he would have provided her with more pieces to the puzzle that was Han Solo. But he had revealed nothing, and Leia had not been comfortable demanding more.

Han had always been difficult to fathom. What she did know about him she could write on the palm on her hand. He was older than she was, by probably close to 10 years. He had never told her when he was born and it was difficult to guess their age difference. There was a wariness about him, a hard edge that suggested experience and seasoning, and created the impression that he was older than he looked. She suspected his life had been solitary, filled with bitterness, deceit and hardship. Despite this, there were occasions when he dropped his shields and allowed her to see a side to him that no-one else knew. In those moments when a vulnerability and simplicity lit his eyes and he appeared even younger than she was, Leia again wondered what events had shaped this man. She had hoped that, given time, he would confide in her about his background, his past and his family. It was just increasingly frustrating for her that he hadn't even made a start.

This level of intimacy was new ground for Leia. Her previous romantic relationships had not moved past innocent kisses with would-be suitors. She didn't know if she was _entitled_ to expect more from Han than he had offered. Did she have a right to be disappointed because he hadn't poured out his life story to her? And would he feel as though she was interrogating him if she asked for more? She knew Han Solo wasn't the average citizen of the galaxy. It was difficult to predict anything about him, let alone his reaction if she asked questions about his past. Would questions sour their happiness? Would he resent her? All she knew for certain was that she loved him. That should be enough for anyone, shouldn't it?

With a contrite shake of her head, Leia stepped through the mess of clothing, gun rig, boots and shoes and moved towards the naked man in her bed. A vaguely wicked grin shaped Leia's mouth as she imagined how they must look. _She had a Corellian smuggler for a lover_ —which was a considerable leap from the chaste and respectable life her aunts would have charted out for her. Leia imagined the reactions of Aunt Tia and Aunt Rouge if they could have seen her 'carrying on', as they would have called it, with a man who would have been arrested if he had made planetfall on Alderaan. As much as Leia had loved her spinster aunts, they had been frightfully prudish. If Leia had been able to take Han home to the palace at Aldera, there would have been looks of dismay and gasps of shock. Tia may have had an eye for handsome men, but Leia doubted Han's looks would have appeased either aunt.

Leia's recollections turned wistful. There was one man she wished she could introduce to Han, one man she had wanted to please and to seek his approval. Leia had no doubt that her _real_ father, Bail Organa, would have queried her about her choice of men—what parent wouldn't with Han Solo? But she was certain Bail would have grown to like Han and accept her Corellian into the Organa household.

Having a family and a sense of where a person came from was vitally important to Leia, particularly after she had lost so much. This was why she needed to know about Han and his family. And although the harsh truth had been exposed about her heredity, it had also provided her with a much-loved brother in the shape of Luke.

Han had stood quietly by side when she had disclosed these revelations, neither judging nor questioning, simply accepting Leia for who she was—the woman he loved. Why then couldn't she give Han the same unconditional acceptance?

Leia tried to re-focus her self-defeating thoughts back to the man in question. Although Han was lying down, his head and shoulders were propped up on the pillows and a soft snore escaped from his open mouth. She had only been gone a few minutes and already he seemed sound asleep. So much for the declaration he had made early on in their relationship that he wasn't like most men, that he wouldn't roll over after sex and fall asleep.

Leia stared at the large foot directly in front of her. With a delicate touch, she ran her fingertips up the sole of his foot. A snort abruptly stopped the snore. He moved his lips, turned his head to the side. The snore resumed, only louder this time.

Leia repressed a short laugh. There were other more tempting parts of his anatomy she could have awoken, but she didn't know if she was up to facing a refreshed and aroused Han Solo. She tugged on his big toe instead.

"Hey!"

Caught mid-snore, Han struggled into life. A dazed look crossed his face and he blinked twice.

"What?" His tone was gruffly defensive.

"You fell asleep," Leia accused with a smile. She placed her hands on hips in response to his dismissive grimace. "You were asleep," she asserted.

"Just resting my eyes."

"You were asleep." She tugged on his toe again. "I thought you said you weren't like other men." She dropped the pitch of her voice in a poor imitation of his baritone. "'I don't roll over and fall asleep' were your words."

Han turned his palms up in submission and gave her a crooked smile. "You must've worn me out, sweetheart."

"Who wore who out?" she asked incredulously, recalling what they had been up to during the last hour. She was positive she had over-stretched muscles she didn't know she had, including some that might provide an interesting talking point amongst the ship's company if she spent the next few days walking bow-legged.

Han's smile widened, spreading up to his eyes, and Leia found herself smiling back, a touch self-consciously, trying to work out what he found so amusing.

"What?" she asked.

He raised his chin towards her. "Look at you."

"Me?" Leia chuckled, still not sure what the joke was. "What about me?"

The familiar spark in his eye spoke more than words. "There's an incredibly beautiful, sensual, _sexy_ woman, no— _princess_ —an incredibly beautiful, sensual, sexy princess—who I just made love to—is standing above me and she's as naked as the day she was born. Why shouldn't I be smiling?"

Leia blushed and averted her eyes, instinctively hunching her shoulders forward and clasping her hands to opposite elbows in a belated attempt to hide her breasts. It had taken only a short time for her to come to terms with her own sexuality and to cherish the sensations that Han's experienced touch could elicit in her body. It had taken her slightly longer to be casual about being naked in front of a man, particularly this man. Even so, a simple look or comment from Han about her nudity could still cause an unexpected surge of embarrassment.

"Leia."

The appeasing timbre of his voice suggested that this time he would not tease her about her coyness. Her gaze returned to his and his outstretched hand, an invitation she could not resist. She took his hand, allowed him to pull her back onto the bunk and on top of himself. He made a small, appreciative sigh as she pressed her hips to his and lay her face against his chest. He rested his chin on the crown of her head, loosely hugging her body to his, and closed his eyes.

"You know, Your Highness," he told her matter-of-factly, "you've totally ensnared me." His hands caressed her back in circular patterns, the heat both comforting and invigorating. "Heart, mind, body and soul."

Leia wiggled her hips into his stomach and squeezed the biceps on the arm she was facing. "What about the good bits?" she pestered good-naturedly.

He brushed a kiss into her hair. "Everything about me is good bits."

She stifled a giggle. "Everything?"

"You should know." He batted away her attempt to pinch his nipple. "Uh-uh. Don't play with what you can't handle."

"Ohh?" she asked playfully. "Aren't we cocky?"

"I could be, sweetheart," he growled in reply, "I could be."

Leia smiled into his chest as he adjusted his hold on her, pulling her closer. She knew Han could become aroused quite quickly, but she didn't believe he was that interested in making love again if the lack of activity below his waist was anything to go by. It looked like a cuddle would satisfy for now.

She turned her head back towards the arm she was holding onto. Her fingers gently brushed the slight ridge of scar where his upper arm met his shoulder. The section of skin behind the scar tissue was a shade lighter than the rest of his arm. This old injury was obviously a blaster wound that hadn't received immediate medical attention; Leia had seen many similar scars amongst wounded Rebel troops.

There was a matching though less discernible mark further down on his forearm, and she took a moment to touch that too. Resting her chin on the back of her hand, Leia traced the veins in his arm back up to the shoulder scar. These scars had always fascinated her. They were a tantalising glimpse into his previous life.

"You've got a thing about my arm, haven't you?"

Leia's eyes and head moved to find Han looking down at her. She frowned as the corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin.

"I do not have a _thing_. I'm just curious about these scars."

His eyes sparkled in challenge. "Why don't you ask me how I got them?"

It was a good question. She had been tracing these scars on his arm since they had first made love on their escape flight to Bespin, and relatively speaking that was quite some time ago.

"Why should I have to ask you?" Leia's gaze hardened as she decided to turn his challenge around. "Why can't you just tell me? Why can't you tell me because you think that I might be interested and you want to share your life with me?"

Han noticeably pulled his head back, surprised at the touch of vehemence in her voice. He held up a placating hand, and smiled at her brilliantly.

"They're only a few scars, sweetheart. I didn't think you'd be that interested."

"I _am_ interested," she insisted, not quite prepared to give in. "I'm interested in everything about you." She levered herself up on his chest so she was at eye level with him. "You know everything about me. The most intimate details. You know all about me, my family, my history—everything. What I know about you, I could write on half a sheet of flimsy." She shook her head in bewilderment. "Why won't you open up to me?"

Han's smile wavered, slipped, then emerged solidly back in place. "You know more about me than anyone."

Leia eyed him disbelievingly. "All I know is that sometime in your past you were an Imperial pilot who was court martialled for releasing a Wookiee slave. You then became a smuggler, rescued a princess from the Death Star, and eventually became a general in the Rebel Alliance. That is _not_ everything, Han."

His shrug wobbled between modesty and reticence. "What can I say, Leia? There's not much substance to me."

Leia nodded at him knowingly. "Fine, Han," she told him in a voice that indicated it was anything _but_ fine.

She tried to roll from his arms but he held her in place and quickly added, "But seeing as you asked so nicely,"—Leia stopped struggling—"I'll tell you."

Han allowed her to settle back into place before indicating the scar on his right shoulder with a nod of his chin. His face became starkly serious and he told her, "Vicious girlfriend."

Leia hit him, a non-too-gentle fist into the shoulder in question. He flinched.

"Like _that_?" she asked sweetly.

His reply was petulant. "Maybe."

She curled her fist again. "Perhaps it was more like—"

"Okay, okay, I surrender." He rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, "Why did I have to get the princess who is worse than any bounty hunter?"

"Because you're the _lucky_ scoundrel," Leia kindly pointed out. "You should see what sort of princesses the other scoundrels got saddled with. There are far worse princesses out there than me, sweetheart." She sharply drew him back to their previous conversation. "But if you don't tell me how you got that scar, I might just have to take matters into my own hands."

Han's mouth spread into a slow, sensual smile. "I like the sound of that."

Leia felt a familiar twitch—a tightening of muscle—below his waist.

"Han…" she warned.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I didn't do anything."

The hardness pushed into her stomach again and she sighed in exasperation. "Why do you get turned on when I hit you?"

Han raised his eyes to the bulkhead above them. "If you don't know by now…"

Her face tensed and she stiffened in his arms. Although he was getting better at working out her limits, sometimes he still went too far.

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, mollifying her slightly.

"You're a bad woman, Leia Organa," he told her tenderly. "In addition to everything else, I also think you're corrupting me. I should put in a formal complaint. Remind me to do that sometime." Han blew out his breath and continued without further hesitation. "You know how me and Chewie spent some time out in the Corporate Sector before we hooked up with Luke and old Kenobi on Tatooine? Well it wasn't too profitable and I managed to make a few enemies as well."

"It's that way you have with people, sweetheart" Leia advised cheekily. "Tomorrow we'll start on your diplomacy lessons."

Han smiled mock-pleasantly. "Thanks. I'm lookin' forward to them." He scratched at the scar on his chin. "Anyway, I managed to get on the wrong side of this one guy. He was a professional gunslinger, real slick. He wore the costume, even these weird beads knotted in his moustache." Han's gaze turned inward. "Gallandro."

There was something in Han's voice that told her the encounter with Gallandro had deeply affected him.

"Was there was a contract out on you?" she softly asked.

The sound of her voice drew his gaze back to hers.

"Nah. It was all personal with Gallandro." Han grinned at the recollection. "He thought I was a smart ass."

"Nooo?"

Her sarcasm made him pat her cheek fondly.

"He wanted to teach me a lesson, put me back in my place. He actually told me that I needed 'chastening'. If he'd asked I could have told him that I've never responded well to punishment."

Leia was tempted to follow him up on exactly what he meant by this, perhaps ask him for examples of when he'd been reprimanded. She suspected he would have been quite a handful as a teenager. It was probably a small miracle that he had been able to withstand the discipline of the Academy, and there was no doubt in her mind that he would've struggled during his time in the Imperial Navy, even if he had been an officer.

Han continued, "Gallandro had been itching to take me on in a duel, or have me locked up in some CSA horror factory. But I outwitted him and walked away with a tidy sum from Authority coffers instead."

A glint in his eye suggested there was something else—or _someone else_ — which he had walked away with as well. Leia dampened her spark of jealousy. She knew it was irrational to be envious about past girlfriends, and knowing Han there were probably quite a few women, perhaps even some they might bump into one day. The important thing to focus on was that Han loved her, not those other women, and that he was here with her now. If any of his previous girlfriends had meant anything to him, he would still be with them. Leia unsuccessfully wished she could convince herself that her logic was sound.

"When Gallandro finally caught up with me again out Tion way, he was really pissed. I couldn't get out of another stand-off with him. And he was good. Damned good. Way out of my league. He was so much faster on the draw than I'll ever be."

"Stand off?" Leia asked incredulously. "You faced him in a duel?" The thought of two men trying to kill each other, especially in such a deliberate and calculating manner, was abhorrent to her. There was enough pain and violence in the galaxy without adding to it. Times like this made her realise just how different she and Han were.

Han grinned at the aversion on her face.

"There was nothing else I could do, sweetheart. I didn't want to see who had the fastest speed-draw, but Gallandro seemed to think it was his job to clean out all the wannabes from the galaxy. I s'pose it was just my turn."

She wanted to believe that Han would have walked away from this duel if he'd had the chance, but she also knew he would never turn his back on a fight. It was just that hand-to-hand duelling seemed so cold-blooded, antiquated and overtly and stupidly male.

"So you faced him," she said, trying to conclude the tale, "and you won."

Han's grin froze into a tight line across his face. "No, I lost."

For a moment, she thought he was joking. Han had the fastest speed-draw she had ever seen. Many times, she had watched him practise at the holographic target range. To be beaten at a skill he was rightfully proud of must have been a sobering experience for him.

"Did he let you go?" she asked quietly.

The smile returned and he shook his head. "Gallandro was no philanthropist, that's for sure. As I said, he wanted to teach me a lesson. I figure we must've drawn at the same time, but he was faster on the trigger. His first shot hit me here." He touched his right shoulder. "He wasn't off target. His aim was good. If he'd wanted me dead, he could've shot me in the head instead." He grimaced in self-disgust. "I was slow. I only shot the floor. So I stood there like a moron and he fired at me again. Hit me here." He touched the faint discolouration on his forearm. "I dropped my blaster."

Leia knew the agony of a blaster wound and a flash of empathy engulfed her. She could almost feel Han's pain, smell the stench of his charred flesh.

"So Gallandro showed me who the boss was. Then he cuffed my feet together and got ready to drag me away. I was off to the nearest detention facility as far as he was concerned."

This was his second mention of being imprisoned. His claim didn't sound so insignificant to Leia when she realised that if he had been detained in the Corporate Sector, she may not have been rescued from the Death Star.

Han half-shrugged the shoulder that had started this tale. "Anyway, I guess I was lucky. While I was lying there, moaning on the ground, Gallandro was stupid enough to take his blaster into a no-weapons zone. The auto systems detected his breach and promptly eliminated him. Left him a sticky, smoking patch on the ground."

He didn't sound particularly pleased at the picture used to describe Gallandro's demise, but it was in keeping with his character.

"By the time I got some decent medical attention," Han finished explaining, "scar tissue had already formed. As I didn't have too many credits back then, I decided to leave well enough alone and never got the scars removed. It also makes sure I don't forget what happened."

Leia was certain he would never forget what happened, regardless of having scars to remind him. And she would certainly always remember the moment he had decided to tell her.

"Do you realise," she began, "that all it would've taken was for this Gallandro to decide to kill you and be done with it, or if he hadn't gone armed into that no-weapons zone, you'd be—"

"—rotting in some Authority prison," he succinctly concluded for her. "If that hadn't killed me by now."

No Han. Leia didn't want to imagine that might have meant. Without a further word, she leaned down and pressed her lips to the mark on his forearm, moved up and kissed his scarred shoulder. She slid back to her position on his chest and smiled into his face. He smiled back. Then she traced the slash of scar across his chin, and his eyebrows raised melodramatically. She wanted more from him.

"And what about this?"

He threw his head back and chuckled, squeezing her in a hug.

"I'm serious, Han," she maintained.

"Are you gonna do my whole body?" he laughed.

"Perhaps," she considered. "Think of it as therapy."

"Doctor Leia, huh?"

"Why not?"

He sighed dreamily. "Well, Doctor Leia, I've got some other things I wouldn't mind you having a look at while you're here."

"I bet you have." She tweaked his nose. "But first, let's start with the chin."

He closed his eyes and sighed again. "All right." He thought for a moment, then looked at her seriously. "I was about 15 or 16, driving a speeder and trying to secure the safety harness at the same time. I rounded a corner, ran into a utilities pole and cracked my chin on the steering yoke."

Leia's mouth literally dropped open. "You're joking!"

Han looked affronted. "Blood poured everywhere. I was too embarrassed to have it looked at."

"Really?" His story sounded plausible enough. But he had yielded far too readily. "That sounds like something Luke would have done."

He had to agree with her. "It does, doesn't it? Okay, you got me." He grinned, hoping she wouldn't want to wipe it from his face. "The same trip where I had it out with Gallandro, a guy pulled a knife on me. I didn't duck quickly enough." He fingered the scar thoughtfully. "I've always wondered if I should get it removed."

"No!" she protested, replacing his finger with hers. She leant forward and kissed his chin. "What else would I have to identify you in a police line-up?"

"Nice."

She sat back from him again. "Next."

He twisted his mouth in thought. "I have a scar on my other shoulder, near my neck."

Leia pushed his head to the side to see. She couldn't recall seeing a scar there before.

"It's faded a bit now, so you may not be able to see it."

Her fingers smoothed the muscle and tendons where his neck met his shoulder. The skin looked clean and unmarked.

"What was that from?"

"When I had my second head removed."

She stopped, stared at him darkly, but was prepared to give him this one.

"Second heads are normally rather ugly," she remarked.

He nodded in agreement. "This one was butt ugly."

She gave him a sickly sweet smile. "Are you sure they took the right head off?"

"You're the doctor, Doctor Leia"

She kissed the base of his neck, then moved back again. "Next."

He grinned at her congenially. "You have to find the next one. Then I'll tell you how I got it."

The cant to her head said she did not believe he would abide by the rules.

"I'll even give you hints," he quickly added. "I'll tell you whether you're hot or cold."

Leia sat upright now, her legs straddling his waist. This game could be fun, but it could also be his way out of revealing any more to her.

She touched the spot on his shoulder she had just kissed. "Am I cold?"

"Ohh, very cold. Like ice."

With a smile, she dragged her finger across his throat and down to the top of his sternum. "How's that?"

He lay placidly beneath her, arms by his side and palms open, ready for inspection.

"Still cold."

Her finger made a path down along the centre of his chest, stopping at the top of his abdomen. "Now?"

His gaze moved off to the side in consideration. "You're getting warmer, but you've still got a way to go."

She felt the familiar twitch underneath her, a short tap against her thigh, but she continued regardless. Her finger slid around the lower edge of his ribs, snaked back to his navel.

"This is a nice scar," she suggested, plunging her smallest finger into his navel.

He shook his head. "Not the one I'm thinkin' of. But you're on the right track. Don't give up now, Doctor Leia. You're nearly there."

She was almost prepared to give in to his side-tracking plans and be done with it. He had, after all, been rather forthcoming with his explanation about the marks on his arms, and she had always wanted to know where the chin scar came from.

Leia glanced as the hand he held next to his hip suddenly flinched. Then she saw it: a thin, white scar across the top of his palm. It was a rather innocuous mark she recalled having noticed before.

"Ah hah!" Leia grabbed his hand eagerly. "What's this from?"

She pulled his hand toward her, her fingers pushing against the fine white line that stretched across the width of his hand. Her grin became triumphant. She had him now.

Han's eyes dulled, the muscles in his cheeks slackening. Leia instantly knew his shields had come on-line, as effective as any ship defensive system. His fingers curled into a fist and he pulled his hand from her grasp.

"I don't remember."

His tone told her he didn't want to play anymore. He bodily picked her up from his waist and rolled himself off the bed, leaving her confused in the sheets. Leia made a move to grab his arm, but he was already heading into the refresher.

"Han."

Either he didn't hear or he chose to ignore her. The door shut between them, leaving her alone in the cabin.

Legs splayed, Leia sat there wondering what nerve she had touched. Could he really be that sensitive about a hardly-discernible white scar? Perhaps he had simply become annoyed with her continued questions.

Leia heard the sonics switch on in the refresher. _That must be it for the night,_ she thought with a sigh of resignation. These intimate relationships could certainly be a lot of hard work, especially with a man as downright difficult as Han Solo.

Trying not to be too annoyed with either him or the turn of events, Leia settled back into the bed and pulled the covers up around herself. She picked up the datapad from the bedside locker and gave her attention to recent intelligence reports.

Sometime later the hatch to the refresher opened and Leia looked up from the datapad. Han stood at the end of the bed, looking clean and refreshed and, she wanted to imagine, slightly contrite.

"You hungry?" he asked softly. "I'm hungry."

"Probably because you haven't eaten," she replied, still determining how difficult she wanted to make this for him.

He tried a hopeful smile. "I thought I had more than a mouthful earlier."

Leia smiled, in spite of herself.

"Wanna get dressed?" he asked. "Head down to the mess?"

She gave him a wan look and pulled the covers from her body. "No, Han. I was thinking about heading to the mess just as I am."

Han snagged up his underwear from the floor and scratched his head. "That's fine by me, Your Worship, but the crew might talk."

"You've got clean shorts in the cupboard," she pointed out.

"I know," he agreed. "I was just tidying up."

 _Aah,_ Leia thought. _He_ is _trying to apologise._

She put the datapad down and slipped from the bed. "Give me five minutes."

"Only five?"

She affectionately patted his cheek. "And don't push your luck."

Han snagged an arm around her waist and pulled her into him. He stared down into her eyes, then pressed a kiss to her lips, gentle, sweet and succulent. As he pulled away, his smile was small but appreciative.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

The moment seemed more profound than it should have been. They had barely had a disagreement, more like static in their communications. She lay her hand against his cheek again, pulled his head back towards her until their noses touched.

"You don't deserve me," she told him. At such proximity, she could detect the flecks of gold in his eyes.

"So they tell me," he solemnly replied. "And I think they're right."

His eyes closed when she kissed the end of his nose.

Leia stepped away from him and headed for the refresher. She held her hand up over her head, her fingers spread.

"Five minutes."

"You know me," he said, stuffing his dirty laundry into the auto valet unit. "I'd wait an eternity for you, sweetheart"

Leia pressed the controls for the sonics, adjusting them to her preferred settings.

 _That's half my problem,_ she thought. _I don't know you._ She tested the setting with a hand before entering the stall. _But give me time. I'm working on it._


End file.
